


A Clue Too Many Monsters

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3981301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four bands, four monsters, zany adventures, but not a single Scooby Snack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Clue Too Many Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> A complementary work to the mix

The van is crowded and smells like pizza. Sadly the pizza is long gone except for a handful of crusts that are about a week old. Gerard is poking at them in the open box.

“You can’t be seriously contemplating eating those,” Frank says as he looks over his shoulder, turning in the front seat, his knee on the cracked fake leather. “What are you looking for? A new life form?”

“That’d be cool,” Mikey says without looking up from his phone.

Gerard shakes his head. “I think I lost a tooth.”

“A tooth? In the pizza?” Ray looks in the rear view mirror, his brow furrowed. “Three days ago? And you’re just now noticing?”

“No. Just in general.”

“Open your mouth.” Frank gets up on his knees and holds the back of the chair. He peers at Gerard’s open mouth. “I think they’re all there. Mikey, you look.”

Mickey lowers his phone and leans in. He hooks a finger in the corner of Gerard’s mouth and tugs each cheek out, looking over his glasses. “Nope. None missing. You can totally keep being a carnivore.”

“Awesome.” Gerard settles back into the seat, shoving the pizza box down beside it. “Are we almost there?”

“Yeah.” Ray nods, his hair moving more than his head. “We just ran into some fog and I had to slow down. It doesn’t look like it’s letting up soon.”

“It’s really thick,” Frank agrees, turning back around and settling into the seat again.

“Did you see that?”

“See what, Gee?” Mikey looks up from his phone again, squinting out the window into the fog. “Hey, it’s foggy.”

“I saw something.”

“Can’t see anything in this fog.” Ray leans forward over the steering wheel trying to see better. “It’s too thick. I can barely see the front of the van.”

“I saw something,” Gerard insists. “Something that moved and stuff.”

“Maybe it was one of the other bands coming in and you saw their van moving.”

“Maybe.” Gerard doesn’t look convinced. “But it looked like a person.”

“Nobody would be out in this f-” Ray cuts off mid-word as he slams on the brakes. They all stare out the windshield where, in the headlights reflecting off the fog, they can see what looks like a giant sea monster – completely with dripping water, trailing seaweed, webbed hands, and gills. It stares back at them with wide, buggy eyes for an endless moment before another wave of the fog rolls through. All four of them look at each other then look back out the windshield. Whatever it was is gone when the fog dissipates completely mere moments later. All four of them look at each other again in completely silence.

It’s broken a few seconds later by Gerard. 

“Wow. That was fucking _cool_.”

**

Joe’s stoned, but he’s driving because Andy’s exhausted from driving twelve hours, Patrick’s not speaking to any of them, and Pete’s navigating.

Trying to navigate.

“How are there places that don’t come up on GPS? I don’t know how to fold this thing. Much less read it.”

“Folding’s the hard part.” Joe squints out the window. “We’re on...Bathazar Road?” They pass an intersection. “Or something.”

“Bathazar Island is where we’re going. I see that!” Pete points to a spot on the map. “There should be a bridge. Right...oh.”

“Should be.” Joe stops at the remains of a bridge, the wood shattered and the center of it sunk into the water. “But this is not a bridge. This is an ex-bridge.”

“We have to get to the venue,” Patrick reminds them. “We have a contract.”

Pete and Joe both roll their eyes, carefully not looking at each other. That is literally the only thing Patrick has said since they left Chicago three days ago. But he’s said them _several_ times with varying degrees of irritation, anger, and a few times with kicking the back of Pete’s seat. “We know, Patty-cakes.” Pete has _never_ let Patrick being pissed at him get in the way of pissing Patrick off more.

“I hate you so much,” Patrick grumbles.

“Did you hear that, Joe? That’s like a whole new sentence. Write that down somewhere.” Pete sees Patrick flip him off out of the corner of his eye and starts giggling. “You love me the most, Patrick. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

“Just because he can’t convince you otherwise,” Andy says drolly from the back of the van, his eyes still closed, “doesn’t make it true.”

“Everyone knows our love is true,” Pete insists. He turns around and looks at the bridge. “Hey, there’s a row boat.”

“So?”

Pete rolls his eyes again. “So we can row over to the island.”

“We have gear, Pete.”

“So? We make a couple of trips. The island isn’t that far and Andy owns all the muscles in the world, so he can row us.” Andy flips Pete off then crosses his arms over his chest. “See? Look at those guns.”

Andy opens one eye. “Pete...”

“Don’t be that way, Andy. I love your muscles. They make me tingle in my special parts.”

Andy closes his eye again, discretion being the better part of valor. He’s barely done that before there’s a knock on Joe’s window and they all jump and scream. There’s a short guy covered in tattoos standing outside the van. 

Joe rolls down the window. “Uh...yeah?”

“Hey, I’m Brian. Running this with Tony. The bridge is out.” They all blink at him, unsure what to say. “There’s another one down that road. You can get to the island from there. It’s kind of bumpy, not sure how your van’ll handle it, but that’s the only way left to get out there.”

“Okay. Well. Cool. Thanks.” Joe nods. “We’ll go...that way then.”

“Cool.” Brian walks off, disappearing into the sudden fog. 

“That was pretty fucking creepy,” Pete says softly. “Are we sure we should do this?”

“We have to get to the venue,” Patrick reminds them. He frowns angrily as they all say in unison. “We have a contract.”

“I hate you _all_ so much.”

**

“You’re kidding, right?” Alex looks at the huge, dilapidated house in front of them. “There’s no fucking way.”

“Why not?” Ryland looks up to the window at the top of the house. There’s a light shining from it like a beacon. “I mean, yeah, it’s definitely a fixer-upper.”

“It looks like it’s going to fall apart the second someone starts a sound check.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t have picked the venue if it couldn’t handle us.” Gabe shrugs, not bothered. “Let’s go check out the competition.”

They all go inside, Victoria leading the way. The entryway is lit with weak yellow lights that don’t to much to brighten the room or offset the dark burgundy tapestries lining the walls. Nate peers at them and wrinkles his nose. “These are creepy. Hunting scenes with, like, dead animals and shit. Not PETA-friendly.”

“Keep moving.” Gabe ushers them into a hallway. There are voices coming from down the hall. “That way.”

Then enter a huge library when Gabe spies someone up on a ceiling-high ladder. He’s got legs that span the length of several rings, and Gabe’s smile is wicked as he walks over to the base of the ladder. 

“Bilvy!”

William starts and his arms windmill as he tries to keep his balance. He fails and falls, but Gabe catches him easily. “You’re an asshole,” William tells him, shoving at Gabe’s chest.

“You love being in my arms.”

“Regardless of how I feel, you’re still an asshole.” William raises and eyebrow and sighs. “Put me _down_ , Saporta.”

“You’re no fun at all.” Gabe sets William on his feet. “Where’s the rest of your band of idiots?”

“Sisky found the kitchen and they all followed like ducklings.”

“Anyone else here yet?”

“Not that I’ve seen. Tony called but we haven't seen him. Guess the judges will be here tomorrow morning.”

“I haven’t heard from Pete or Mikey in a couple of hours, but I think they should be here soon.”

“Looks like your band deserted us. You want to go and find them?”

“Rather go find a private room.” Gabe waggles his eyebrows. “If you know what I mean.”

“I’m really not sure. You’re being so subtle.” William smiles and bumps his arm against Gabe’s. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to be seen. Missed your skinny ass.” Gabe hooks his arm over William’s shoulder. “I mean, it sucks that it’s under such sad circumstances, since my band’s gonna beat up your band.”

“Keep dreaming.”

“Yeah, that ain’t what I dream about. Well...beating your ass, maybe.”

“You’re ridiculous.” William frowns as a series of screams come from the kitchen. “That can’t be good.” Sisky and Nate comes tearing down the hall, nearly slamming into William and Gabe.

“Were...werewolf!” Sisky cries as they shoot passed.

“That’s just Tomrad,” Gabe yells after them.

“I don’t think so,” William says as the remaining members of their bands – including Tom Conrad – bolt out of the kitchen.

“ _Werewolf_.”

“There’s no such thing!” Gabe yells and grabs Mike Carden’s arm. “What the hell?”

Carden looks panicked, which is more disturbing than everyone else screaming about werewolves. “No shit.” Carden wrenches his arm free and follows everyone else down the hall.

William looks at Gabe then toward the kitchen. “Werewolf, huh? One of the other bands trying to scare us?”

Gabe shrugs just as a loud, long howl echoes down the hall and a dark shadow falls through the doorway. “That’s not...”

A hairy paw pushes out past the door frame. Gabe and William exchange glances as another howl comes, louder this time. William grabs Gabe’s hand and takes off down the hall after their bands. Gabe keeps looking back over his shoulder. 

“Holy shit, Bill.”

“Shut up and _run_.”

“Right.” Gabe nods and matches his pace to William’s, never this glad they both have long legs.

**

They all hit the entryway as Gerard, Mikey, Ray, Frank, Pete, Andy, Joe, and Patrick walk in. 

“...a _sea monster_ ,” Gerard finishes excitedly, waving his hands around, his eyes wide and excited.

“Werewolf!” Mike shouts even though they’re all crowded together. He ducks and shoves through, hiding behind Andy. “Werewolf.”

“Is that some new form of greeting?” Frank asks as Sisky pushes behind him.

“Werewolf,” Sisky whispers.

“Werewolf to you too,” Pete says and then frowns. “No. Need some sort of hand gesture, I think. Like the thing Gerard just did for the sea monster.

“No,” Mike states flatly. His voice seems calm, but his eyes are a little wild. “There was a werewolf.”

“Where?” Joe asks.

“Wolf?” Andy says.

“There.” Sisky points back toward the kitchen. “Back there.”

“There’s no such thing,” Ray informs them. “Just like there’s no such thing as sea monsters.”

“Saw it,” Tom argues. “Go see.”

“Don’t go see.” Butcher grabs Patrick’s arm. “Because werewolf.”

“You guys are being ridiculous,” Frank says as Patrick jerks his arm out of Butcher’s grip. “You seen Brian or Tony?”

“We saw Brian,” Patrick says. “Out by the washed out bridge.”

“We haven’t seen anyone.” Tom shoves his hands in his pockets, pretending that they aren’t shaking. “Tony’s supposed to be here, but the door was unlocked when we got here, so we just came in. He never answered when we yelled for him.”

“Well, we should go find him.” Patrick heads into the hallway despite Butcher grabbing at him again. 

“Werewolf!”

Patrick rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He starts walking deeper into the house with all the rest of them staying behind him. “Tony?”

“Hey!”

Every single one of them – including Patrick – jumps as Tony responds, walking out of one of the rooms along the hallway like he’d been there the whole time. 

“You guys been here long?”

“We have,” Tom says, pointing to the members of his band. “The rest mostly just got here.”

“Is this place haunted?” Sisky asks.

“Haunted? No. Why would you think that?”

Sisky hunches his shoulders. “No reason.”

“Come on. You guys are probably tired. This way.” He leads them all up the stairs, talking about the event the next day. The bands are all scheduled to compete – each band singing one song from each of the other bands – until a band is crowned the winner by the judges and TV audience vote in each round. Afterward there’s a concert and all of the proceeds are going to charity. Mostly Tony goes over how they’re going to rotate the bands, have them set up around the room. Each band will get the song at the same time and have a half hour to practice before they roll tape.

Victoria is right behind Tony and, in the silence after his explanation, she feels a chill go down her spine. “Haunted or not, this place is creepy.”

Tony opens the door to one of the rooms. “This is you.”

“Why can’t I sleep with the rest of the band?”

Tony shrugs. “Sponsor’s rules. Now, the electricity only works in the hallways, none of the rooms on the upper floor have the wiring anymore. Hazard, I guess.”

“There was a light in the attic when we got here,” Ryland tells him.

“Maybe it was the caretaker?” Tony shrugs and pulls a line of candles and their holders closer to him on the table that lines the hall. He picks up a silver box and opens it, pulling out a match before opening a concealed strike plate. He lights the flame on one of the candles and hands it to Victoria. 

Her face is incredulous. “You’re not serious.”

Tony lights the rest of the line of candles, going through a couple of matches as sudden drafts seemingly from nowhere blow them out and cause the candles to sputter. He gets them all lit and turns around to pass them out. Everyone is looking at him skeptically, some of their expressions verging on straight-up disbelief. 

“You know we need electricity to perform, right?”

“It’s just the upstairs, Alex.” Tony hands out the candles and leads the guys down the hall, separating them into suites by band.

Once their door is closed, Patrick walks over and sets his candle on a table in the middle of the room. He pulls the dist cover off the sofa, sending a cloud into the air. Everyone starts coughing, trying to wave it away from their faces. He sits down and another spray of dust rises from the cushions, sending Patrick into a coughing fit.

Pete goes into the bathroom to get Patrick a glass of water, but returns without one. “The glass looks like it hasn’t been used in about fifty years. And the water’s kind of brown. So.”

“It’s okay.” Patrick’s voice is a little rough, but not too bad. “I’m fine.” 

“I hope the beds aren’t as dusty or we’re never going to sleep tonight.”

“I don’t think it’s dust.” Andy sniffs. “Or if it is, it’s been sprayed with baby powder scent.” 

“It does smell like – holy shit!” Joe ducks as something flies across the room. It’s small and black and fast as it perches on a door frame that juts out of the wall. “What the fuck is that.”

“Bat.” Pete peers at it. “Definitely a – shit!” He ducks as the bat dives at him. “A pissed off bat,” he says from his spot on the floor. The bat swings around, dive-bombing all of them, sending them all to the ground. When they look up, the bat’s gone and a vampire – full on Dracula – is hovering off the floor.

It points at them, baring it’s teeth. “BEGONE!” it shouts, voice echoing through the room. 

Pete squeaks and buries his head under his arms. The vampire shouts again and then swoops through the room, turning into a bat halfway through before flying out the open window. 

“Okay,” Patrick nods as they all manage to sit up. “Maybe they did see a sea monster.”

**

“Of course I fucking brought it.” Ray stomps on his pedal and glares at Brian. “It was here this morning when I fucking set everything up.”

“You’re sure? There’s been a lot going on.”

“Brian. Who knows their gear better than I do?”

Brian shrugs. “Fair enough. Did you ask Bob? He’s been setting up in here since he got here this morning.”

“Have you ever known Bob to pay attention to anything going on around him when he’s working on his kit?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll ask if anyone’s seen it.”

“Tell them that winning by fucking cheating isn’t the way charity shit is supposed to work.”

“Charity shit?” Mikey frowns at his bass. “Is that what we’re calling it now? I mean, I think it might hamper the money raising thing. Donate to our shit.”

“Just tune up, Mikey.” Ray frowns and looks up from his guitar when the doors to the ballroom open. “Saporta! Have you seen my capo?”

“Do I look Italian?” Ray flips him off and Gabe smiles in satisfaction. “Did you look on your guitar?”

“What a fucking brilliant idea.” Ray glares in Gabe’s direction and carefully puts his guitar back on the stand to scour through his stuff again. 

“Mikeyway! Bass players unite!” Gabe holds up his fist in solidarity. Mikey waves vaguely.

“When was the last time you played a bass?” Frank rests his arms on top of his guitar. “Hell, you probably played _baseball_ more recently than you’ve played an instrument besides your dick.”

“Nah, I got your wife to do that for me.” Gabe winks and jumps up on the makeshift stage, grabbing Frank’s hand and pulling him in to bump their shoulders together. “You missing anything or just your partner in crime?”

“My stash of picks. Two of Mikey’s cords. Gerard’s boa.”

“Huh. Victoria’s keytar strap is missing. Nate’s supply of drumsticks. Ryland’s keyboard stand. Weird fucking shit, man.”

“Nuisances, but not harmful?” Frank frowns. “Who would do shit like that?” They stare at each other for a minute and then they both yell out.

“ _Pete!_.”

**

“I didn’t do anything!” Pete’s sitting in a chair, hands wrapped around the edges of it, knuckles white. “I didn’t steal anything.”

“He doesn’t need to steal anything,” Patrick puts a hand on Pete’s shoulder. “Are we done with the Spanish inquisition?”

“I’m from Uruguay. Different.” Gabe squats down and looks Pete in the eye. “No shit, Wentz?”

“No shit. Besides, we had to get the bat out of our room last night. I didn’t have time to do jack shit.”

“Bat?” Gerard pokes his head over Frank’s shoulder. “What bat?”

“There was a bat in our room,” Patrick starts.

“Dracula!” 

“Pete...”

“Fucking Dracula, Patrick. Fangs, taloned fingers, black hair, white skin. Dracula. Cape. Turned into a bat.” 

“Wait a minute.” William leans back in his chair and stretches his legs out in front of him. “Let’s look at this logically. We’ve got a sea monster, right?” Gerard, Frank, Mikey, and Ray all nod. “And my band and most of Cobra saw a werewolf.”

“Heard one for sure,” Gabe agrees with a nod.

“And now we have Dracula?”

Pete nods. Even Andy nods. “It was a fucking vampire. Went for Joe’s throat.”

“It did not, Andy. Jesus, Pete.” Patrick rolls his eyes. “What’s your point, William?”

“I thought I was going somewhere pretty obvious.” William shrugs. “Okay, you want to try to sell me on one monster, that’s cool. I might buy into that. Other than the whole, ‘no such thing as monsters’ thing that is. Two’s kind of stretching it. And _three_? All of them completely unrelated?”

“They could be related. We don’t know their family history.”

William blinks at Gerard. “I didn’t mean related as in family. I meant...”

Gerard holds his gaze. “It’s sort of the same thing.”

“Maybe there’s a treasure.” Sisky says, capturing everyone’s attention. “I mean, maybe they’re here to protect a treasure. Isn’t that why there are usually ghosts or monsters or whatever around?”

“Ghosts, monsters and whatevers aren’t _real_ ,” William reminds him.

“Are too.” They all look at Mikey. “What?” He asks, gazing at all of them in turn. “They’re real. Can’t say they aren’t. Just because there are things we don’t know or understand. That doesn’t make them not real.”

Frank shakes his head. “You’re arguing the supernatural with Gerard and Mikey Way, Beckett. Cut your losses.”

“Right.” William nods.

“I think what he’s trying to say,” Patrick glares at Pete as if daring him to say something. Pete mimes zipping his lips. “Is that it’s _unlikely_ that three very different monsters would all be gathered in one house. At the same time.”

“Yeah.” William nods. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“Are we going to be ghost hunters?” Gerard grins widely at Mikey. 

“Well, so far there haven’t been ghosts.” 

Gerard turns his attention to Mike Carden and frowns. “Who are you again?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Mike’s gotten tired of reintroducing himself. “But there haven’t. Been ghosts.”

“Yet.”

“Right. Yet.” Mike looks around the room for something, apparently not finding it on anyone’s expression. “So, Bill. What’s the plan?”

“Why don’t we do a little looking around. See if we can find anything that’ll tell us why a bunch of movie monsters are stealing our equipment.”

“They want to form a band?” Pete suggests.

“I think they’d probably steal instruments if that were the case,” Joe says. “I mean, why would they steal a keytar strap, but not a keytar?”

Tom shrugs. “Maybe they’ve already got a keytar.”

“Nobody else has a keytar,” Victoria snaps.

Ryland nods. “She’s not wrong.”

“Okay. Okay. We’re getting off track here.” Patrick frowns. “Obviously something’s going on.”

“Ghosts,” Gerard insists.

“And,” Patrick continues as if Gerard hadn’t spoken, “we need to figure out what it is before it ruins this whole charity thing, which is what’s important.” He nails Gerard, Mikey, and Pete with looks. “So we’ll split up and do some searching.”

“For what?” Sisky asks.

“Clues. Ideas. Buried treasure. I don’t know. All the missing stuff. It’s got to be here somewhere.” 

“I’m going with Mikey!” 

“No, Pete. You’re not. Because we actually want you to look for something other than Mikey’s ass.”

“Gay above the waist, Patrick.” Pete grins at him and licks his lips as dramatically and lasciviously as he can. “Don’t let the lyrics fool ya.”

“I hate my life,” Patrick announces to everyone, just in case it was unclear. “And my best friend.”

“How about we draw straws?” Gabe comes back from the kitchen with a handful of spaghetti noodles. He breaks them off in three varying heights and holds them, adjusting them so it’s impossible to tell which is which. They all pull their straws and then walk around, holding them up to everyone else’s until they’re divided into three groups.

“How come all the lead singers are in one group?” Joe asks.

“Excuse me?” William puts his hands on his hips. “What am I?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Bill. Whoops.”

“Okay, Bill, you guys take the attic. Victoria, you guys take the second floor. We’ll look around here.”

There’s a flash of bright light that fills the room and then the whole place goes dark. Butcher and Joe both flick on lighters and they stare at each other in the orange light. “That can’t be good.”

“Gooooooooooooooo hooooooooooooooooooooome.”

They all look around. “What the fuck was that?”

“Gooooooooooooooooo hoooooooooooooooooome.”

“That,” Mikey says with immense satisfaction, “is a fucking ghost.”

An eerie green light fills the room and something hovers over them. It’s not quite human, but it’s vaguely human-shaped and the sound obviously comes from from it or around it. Gerard grabs Mikey’s hand and holds it up in victory as the ghost turns and looks at them all. 

“Gooooooooooooooo hoooooooooooooooooooooome.”

“This is ridiculous,” Ray snaps.

Suddenly the ghost turns and swoops down at them, its features morphing into glowing eyes and its mouth opens wide, teeth sharp and wicked, heading straight for the center of the group. The lighters go out and a cackling, shrieking laugh fills the room and then the ghost is gone.

“Yeah,” Sisky says. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“We’re not going anywhere until we find out what’s going on.” Patrick glares at them all in turn as the lights suddenly come back on. “Where are Brian and Tony?”

“They went to pick up the judges.” Carden’s voice is calm, but his eyes very much aren’t. “They left about an hour ago. At least another two hours before they get back, assuming this rain doesn’t wash out the _other_ bridge.”

“I think there are flashlights in the kitchen,” Tom says.

“We have some in the van.” Gabe shrugs as everyone looks at him. “How else are we supposed to look at porn in the dark?”

“Okay. Flashlights and candles and then we split up. We’ll meet back here in an hour.”

“Assuming they haven’t got us.” Gerard nods. “And eaten us.”

“I don’t think sea monsters eat people, Gee.” 

He looks at Frank, puzzled. “If they didn’t they wouldn’t be classified as monsters. Besides, what else are they going to eat?”

“Things...from the sea?”

“Like fish and kelp and shit?”

“Sure,” Frank nods.

“Huh.”

Patrick rubs his eyes with his fingers, pushing up his glasses. He opens them, seeing spots for a moment. Gabe returns with the flashlights and Patrick sighs. “Okay. Meet in an hour. Does at least _one_ person in every group have a watch?”

After there’s a nod from someone in every group, they all split up. Two groups troop up the stairs together, separating at the second floor. The house is in silence until there’s a loud boom of thunder and a flash of lightning and everything goes dark again. Each group follows a few circles of light through their assigned areas, breaking apart and coming back together. 

When they meet downstairs again they pile everything they’ve found on the stage. Gabe spreads it out and looks through it. “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, guitar strings, a pulley, and scribbled on paper.”

“What about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Frank? Do sea monsters eat those, do you think?”

“No, Gee. I really don’t.”

“What if they were _really_ hungry?”

“Tell you what, if we catch one, we’ll monitor its diet.”

“We’ll have to buy a place with a swimming pool.”

William looks around. “Where’s Pete?”

Patrick and Gabe both sigh simultaneously. “Shit.”

**

They search the house again in pairs, all calling out Pete’s name. No one answers, though they hear the ghost and the werewolf in the distance. It’s getting closer and closer to when Brian, Tony and the judges are supposed to be back, and none of the bands have actually sound checked.

“Shit.” Gabe leans against the wall and sighs. “This whole thing is tits up without Wentz.”

“He’s got to be here somewhere. He’s corporeal. Ghost couldn’t have taken him away.” Mikey shrugs as everyone looks at him. “It’s true.”

“Yeah, but the vampire, werewolf, or sea monster could have.”

Mikey frowns at Sisky. “Oh. Yeah. That’s totally true.”

“There aren’t any monsters.” William sighs heavily. “There’s a logical explanation for _all_ of this. Because even if there _were_ monsters, they wouldn’t share the same territory with another kind of monster. Monsters are territorial.”

Gerard nods. “He’s right about that.”

“Therefore, there are no monsters. Someone is trying to scare us off.”

“It’s _working_ ,” Sisky reminds him. 

“And whoever that is has Pete. So we search again.”

“Hey, uh, guys?” Frank’s standing next to the fireplace. He leans in and pushes against the back, which causes the wall to move, swinging back to reveal a corridor. “Maybe we should check in here.”

They use the flashlights to navigate the hallway, all of them crowded close together. It’s not tall, so Gabe, Ryland, and William all have to hunch over to walk. Patrick mutters something about it paying to be short sometimes, but he gets mocked for it with a list of all the times it pays to be tall, so he shuts up, crossing his arms over his chest and pulling his hat down further on his head.

Ray turns and looks at the rest of them, holding a finger up to his mouth to keep them quiet. They can hear voices in the distance, four they don’t recognize and the fifth that is so clearly Pete. Patrick pushes his way up to the front and hurries ahead of everyone. “Pete!”

All the voices stop and Andy manages to catch up and grab Patrick’s hand. “So much for the element of surprise.” They round a corner and a large wooden door swings open. 

Pete’s standing there, grinning at all of them and waving them into the room he’s in. “Hey, guys. Come in. You guys have got to meet our monsters.”

Gerard and Mikey push through the crowd and make their way into the room first. Everyone else follows closely into the room that’s lit with actual electricity. There are four guys sitting on two small loveseats. Gerard frowns. “Where are they?”

“Right here.” Pete gestures to the four young guys. 

Mikey walks over and pokes each of them in the arm. “They’re not ghosts. Where’s the ghost?”

“Sorry, Mikes.” Pete frowns, wrinkling up his nose. “No ghost.”

“I _saw_ a ghost.”

“Wires. Fog machines. Baby powder. Projector.” One of the guys on the small sofas shrugs. “Illusion. The ghost. The vampire. The bat.”

“There was a werewolf!” Sisky informs them.

The smallest of the guys waves his hand. “That was me.”

“And the sea monster?” Frank looks at the four of them.

Another one raises his arm. “Me.”

“Okay,” Gabe huffs a breath. “Someone needs to explain what the fuck is going on very soon.”

“Can I?” Pete looks at the four of them and then smiles, bouncing on the balls of his feet when they nod. “Okay, so this is Brent, Ryan, Spencer, and Brendon. They’re a _band_. Only they don’t have anyone who will take a chance on them, and they sent me their stuff, but I haven’t been home, so I haven’t gotten it, and when they heard about the show, they thought they’d try and scare us and then save us so that we’d be grateful and I’d sign them.”

“They couldn’t just wait until you got home next week?” Joe asks.

“Nope. Because they heard about the show, and thought what great exposure it would be if they could be in it too.”

“And so they thought they’d just try to scare us away all together,” William says dryly, “and the producers would be so grateful to have someone play for their event and they could just swoop in and save the day?”

A couple of the four guys have the decency to blush, but Pete just rushes on. “Well, maybe, yeah, but they’re _good_ you guys. You should hear Brendon. Sing, Brendon.”

“Dance, monkey, dance,” Gabe mutters to William under his breath. William bites back a laugh, though his eyebrows go up when Brendon starts to sing. Gabe’s rise and match William’s. “Huh.”

“See?” Pete slaps Patrick on the arm. “See? So they have to be in the show.”

Frank rolls his eyes. “Anybody else feel like they’re in a fucking Judy Garland movie?”

The entire group raises their hand and starts to file back out of the corridor and back into the main room. Brian and Tony walk in just as the fireplace wall swings shut behind them all, including the four new members of their entourage.

“Change of plans!” Pete hurries over to them excitedly, dragging one of the boys along behind him. “Tony! Brian! Change of plans!”

**

The night is over and the high of performing is slowly ebbing. They’re all sprawled in the library, some of them on the floor, some on chairs. William’s sitting on the edge of the desk, glaring at the four newest members of their group. “Seriously, what kind of name is that?”

“You don’t really get to say anything, Bill.”

“We had a perfectly good name. Someone else just had it first.” 

“You’re pouting.” Gabe reaches across the desk and pokes William in the hip. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

“We should have won.”

“Probably.”

“We would have won.”

Gabe nods. “Okay, Bilvy.”

“We would have.” William sighs. “If it weren’t for those meddling kids.”

“They’re two years younger than you are.” Gabe sits on the other side of the desk and leans his back against William’s. “Don’t think you can actually get away with calling them that.”

“Nobody asked you, Saporta.”

“Ha.” Gabe turns his head and kisses William’s cheek. “And since when has that _ever_ stopped me from giving someone my opinion?”


End file.
